


Trust, Soundly Built

by stranglerfig



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stranglerfig/pseuds/stranglerfig
Summary: A fight and a pyre. Everything comes to a head.





	Trust, Soundly Built

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an amorphous time period unanchored to canonical seasons.

There was no time to consider, no time to hesitate. The hag’s dagger screamed toward Arthur, and Uther and the nobles watched, horrified, as it sliced towards his neck.

Merlin could see it in his mind’s eye: blood, and death, and emptiness. Of Camelot, of destiny, of him.

He would have conquered hell to stop such a vision, and this was little in comparison. He stepped out from behind Arthur, the first quick movement, then, the second, he delicately seized the blade just before it grazed Arthur’s throat in a hand glowing gold.

“My king,” he whispered, softly, for Arthur’s assurance only, then hurled the dagger back at the hag. It plunged home and she dropped, dead as Arthur would have been. Perhaps more. Definitely more.

There was silence, and Merlin bore it. No one dared speak: Gaius, watching from afar, trembling in worry, Gwen with a hand to her mouth. The nobles, still horror-stricken at Arthur’s would-be fate, forks raised. Arthur himself staring at Merlin.

And Uther. Uther shattered the silence.

“Sorcery! Seize him!”

Uther’s guards moved for Merlin, who was doing some quick thinking, when Arthur shouted an unexpected “No!” and stood, only possibly in that order.

“Let’s not be rash, father,” he said, more composed. “Merlin has just saved my life.”

“By using sorcery—magic!” Uther spat. “Stand down, Arthur. He will be burned at daybreak.”

“I hesitate to believe he would ever mean any ill will toward Camelot,” Arthur continued, ignoring his father. Merlin wondered at the steel in his voice. “Merlin?”

“I have only ever protected Arthur,” Merlin stated, and saw Arthur relax minutely. When and where, Merlin wonders, did he earn this trust?

“You see, father,” Arthur said. “Surely you cannot still think him evil. A loyal servant to the crown.”

Uther steamed. “The sorcerer’s testimony proves only that he is guilty of more crimes than this one. Step aside, Arthur.” The prince had shifted slightly in front of Merlin. “Guards.”

Arthur drew his sword.

“You misunderstand, father.”

Uther’s eyes narrowed.

“One against my guards and myself?”

Arthur stepped slowly and more directly in front of Merlin.

“So be it. You will come to your senses soon enough.”

Arthur fought, hard and desperate, and Merlin did as well. But his heart was not in it: he was distracted by Arthur’s defense, by the guards who had seized Gaius, by Gwen’s loud crying—and he always felt hesitation when fighting the people he was destined to protect. The hesitation was gone when he was knocked unconscious by a knight who had slipped past Arthur’s guard.

Then the room was a battleground. The knights against their own commander, standing over a sorcerer’s body. Arthur crouched and tore like a beast hell-bent on protecting his own, and Uther put him down mercilessly.

He was locked in his room, and Gwen and Gaius into theirs and Merlin to the dungeons. He murmured to a distant Kilgharrah when he woke until the guards, unnerved, gagged him.

Arthur woke five hours later and battled his door like a dragon, but there were guards and some kind of blockade on the other side. All his clothes and bedcovers had been taken so he could not climb.

He whaled and blistered at the barrier until dawn, attempted to burn it down—the candle didn’t last—hack it up—it was too thick—and collapse it—the guards held it up. At first light he saw Merlin out his window.

Merlin knew, instinctually, that Arthur watched, and not just because the prince was screaming his name. He couldn’t hear it, it was too far a distance, but he knew. He stopped walking for a second, jabbed by a knight’s spear in the process, and jerked his chin up toward Arthur.

Arthur watched Merlin burn. Arthur screamed himself hoarse at the flames and fell silent when a flare erupted from the figure in the center, and there was only char. He sunk onto the window and stared as the poor men employed for the job cleaned up the ashes and the pyre. He felt some pity for Uther’s coming fate (the one he would enforce), but not much. He was empty.

An hour later and he still stared. No one had come to see him. He didn’t blame them. The risen sun was in his eyes, but he didn’t care.

“Stop moping, you clotpole. Honestly, Uther should know by now that sorcerers often have tricks up their sleeves.”

Arthur whirled around, and there was Merlin: shiny, dancing, alive Merlin. The bleak gap in his chest closed with an “oomph”. Or maybe filled with a sigh.

“Merlinyouidiot,” he said in a rush, and didn’t know whether to fall over or hit Merlin, so he went for sort-of-in-between and hugged him like a drowning man.

“You’re not mad?” Merlin asked hopefully, clutching him back.

“Course I am, moron. You’re a sorcerer.”

“Warlock, actually.”

“Merlin—I. I w-watched. The fire.”

“I know.” Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s neck. “Now you know what it feels like all the times I’ve watched you die.”

“But how are you here?”

“You didn’t really think I’d let them kill me, did you?” Merlin asked, pulling away and winking. “Clotpole. Not to brag, but you have no idea how powerful I am. Going to take more than a bit of fire to kill me. Not when you still need me to save your hopeless royal prattness all the time.”

Arthur was suddenly serious. “You’ve never tried to harm Camelot?”

“Arthur,” Merlin said. “Never. My magic is yours.”

“It’s not,” Arthur protested.

“It’s a metaphor. Supposed to symbolize my undying loyalty and whatnot.” Merlin glanced up at Arthur. “Well, now you’ve finished your tantrum—”

“My best efforts not to let you be killed!”

“…yeah. Arthur, I…”

“Oh, god, never mind. Not need to get all sappy.”

“Fine. Want to come with me to let Gaius know?”

“We’re locked in,” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin raised an eyebrow and held out a hand.

“No hand-holding, Merlin. Idiot.” Arthur bumped Merlin’s hand aside and clasped him in another embrace. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Thankfully Gaius fainted right after raising one omniscient eyebrow, sparing Arthur any potential embarrassment.


End file.
